Demons and their Uses OOC (An Ethir/Erranruin Production)

[Ethir]

Name:

Deaken (His last name has become lost in time)

Age:

He appears to be somewhere in his early twenties, but is known to be thousands of years old.

Appearance:



(Obviously better clothed, though occasionally does venture out shirtless) He has a tendency to wear long, dark coloured gowns. Usually black but occasionally a darker grey colour. The necklace around his neck is the key that keeps his companion chained to him, and ensures that it does his bidding.

Companion's Appearance (Obviously this is optional for you Erran):



History:

Little is known about Deaken and his 'faithful' companion. He appears in many tapestries and paintings from eons ago, standing in the background with his long cloak shrouding his face, but it is still clear it is him there. Back in the Dark Ages, the years when Demons had started to take hold of the world, people began to question who he was and what he was doing. Many speculated he had opened the Prime, the first gateway to the Demon realm, Nosk'ova. Others thought he were a captive of the Demons, a mere pawn in their grand schemes. But nobody really knew. It was true, however, that he had had something to do with the opening of the Prime. The merging of the realms was what caused his companion, whose name has been forgotten, to look the way he does today. His companion, was once his friend, some would say they were close enough to be lovers, and it was true that they dabbled in that art, but nothing concrete ever came of it. Their friendship was like a family bond, almost unbreakable. And yet, it did break. Deaken had always been a near master in the arts of Dark Magic, and it was this that led him to start opening small portals to the Demon realm, small enough for one person, one way. He spent days upon days visiting the realm, and having his mind twisted from the darkness that lay within, his very soul tainted with the essence of Demons, so much so he could almost be classed as one himself. Until one day, he returned from Nosk'ova, and he fled the city. His companion followed him, determined to return his mind to it's former, sane state. But tat was Deaken's plan, he knew he would follow, that is what he had wanted. After hour of travel, Deaken stopped in the middle of the forest on the outskirts of the city, allowed his 'friend' to get close, and slit his throat, smiling gleefully as his body fell to the floor. He began his chanting then, cutting out his companion's heart as he did so, as his chanting became louder and louder and louder, until he was almost shouting every word. And then it had happened. The forest exploded in a blaze of darkness, and Deaken had been thrown to the floor, the fall knocking him cold. When he awoke, the scene that greeted him was that of devastation. A swirling mass of black fog floated harmlessly in the center of a burning circle of trees. This was it. He had opened the Prime, forged a pathway between his realm, and theirs. It was from this first gateway, the biggest gateway of all ever formed, that the first demons had entered and usurped the land. From afar, he could hear the screams of tortured victims of these demons, as they fled through the streets of their towns and villages, only to be viciously attacked in their desperate bid for freedom. It was this day, that Deaken's sanity was lost forever. Now, he could truly fit in with Demonkind.

However, Man was strong at first and began to overpower these demons. They slaughtered them as they had slaughtered their own, they made them suffer for the terror they had brought upon the land. And one by one, the demons fell by their hands. Most of them died, and some were enslaved to build and work for the humans. It was this action from man the angered the already furious souls of Nosk'ova. These souls contained some of the more powerful Demons of their realm, those with little mercy left within their essence. A large group, a powerful group of them, stormed into this world, forcing their way through Prime, the gateway that was just big enough for them to push themselves through. They merged with our realm and wreaked even more havoc than the lesser demons. Among this mighty vanguard, was the Great Demon, one of the first Demons known to ever have been created. The great Demon destroyed more of this realm than any demon ever could, for her power was great and infinite. She caused men to drop where they stood, simply by looking at them. Cities fell by her hand simply because she had whispered a few words. This world didn't stand a chance against the might of her and her group of powerful demons. Those lesser demons that had first been enslaved ripped free of their human bonds, and joined their Mistress in her quest to burn the world and make it her own.

As the years went by, the Demons settled in the land. Most of man had been kept as slaves or pets, and not the conventional pet either. Demons were not kind to their pets, often torturing them and relieving certain...tensions as and when they wanted, regardless of consent from their 'domestic' humans. Freedom was not a word that ever came to light in the Dark Ages, and any that tried to find their freedom, was met with a furious response. Deaken was proud of what he had achieved here, and watched the years pass him by as he sat alongside the Great Demon on her throne on Earth. Evilkind would agree this was a prosperous age, though other races could not agree. Decades passed, and eventually the humans began to fight back. They refused to be treated so foully by such vile beings, and they rebelled. And so came to pass the Revolution of Man, one of many times that humankind stood out in history. The Demons were slowly cast back into their realm, through the Prime and the other gates they had opened in their time here. Wizards and warlocks and magicians alike all worked together to close these gates, succeeding with all but the Prime. Only he who opened it could close that specific gateway, and he had fled at the first sign of rebelling. Deaken had gone into hiding, waiting for generations to pass before he could show his face again.

It was millenia before that happened. Thousands of years before the lore and the history of this world had been forgotten through the years. Slowly, generations became less interested in history, and more interested in what they could achieve now with what they had. Magic was a dominant trait in this land, and any without were usually frowned upon with great disgust. It was now that Deaken could sift back in to history, and he began to appear more often in more tapestries and paintings, once again standing in the background. Observing. Waiting. A few years later, he had started to regain and reuse his powers, his necromancy and other Dark magic returning to him. He returned to his home, in which he had been long forgotten, and had taken a necklace that once belonged to his friend from his grave, for he had been found and taken back before the Dark Ages had really begun. He took the necklace, and traveled to the Prime, a spot guarded heavily by magic and Demonic wards. He slipped through the seals easily enough. The Prime recognised him, reached out to him and allowed him to absorb enough power to break through the seals. He stood upon the spot he had made his first sacrifice, and he raised the spirit of his companion from the dead, capturing his essence in the necklace and binding it to himself. He is now never seen without that necklace on, not because he chooses to never take it off, but because he cannot. More years passed, and tales of a hooded man and a deathly knight parading the woods starting appearing in the cities. He became a legend, a myth, a scary bedtime story for children. People came looking, they wished to spot these figures for themselves. And they did, but they never lived to tell the tale. Deaken and his companion lived off the land for many more years, searching constantly. He wished to travel through the Prime, but without the help of the first Great Demon, he would be ripped apart, for his powers were not what they once were. And so they search, constantly, for the object his soul was banished to. Had he not fled, he may have known what this object was, but as it was he had run and the warlocks had locked the Demon's soul and hidden it, deep in the forests where nobody could ever happen upon them. If they could find his soul, they could find a way to bring him back, but it was the finding that posed the ultimate task. The Wizards of Old could have put it in anything, a talisman, a stone obelisk...perhaps even a human body. One would never know, for the history has been forgotten, but soon, Deaken was sure history would begin to repeat itself...

[Erranruin]

Name: Mim

Alias: The Queen, The Great Demon, The Defiler, The End, The Conqueror, The Strongest

Age: Indefinate, she cannot remember when she began and if she knows who created her she will tell no one.

Appearance:

History:

Mim began. That was all. She cant even remember anymore. But she knew she began and she knows from where, but she will not tell anyone. Oh no. She graced the planes of Gorgoross next to the fire seas for a millenia before she was joined by more of her kind in the lands of Nosk'ova. She was gentle with them, she came to speak to them, she loved them. But they fought her, they hated her, they hissed and struck at her. She cried, ice tears falling from her eyes and shattering upon the Dark Rock. Angry, ashamed, betrayed, she struck back. And suddenly they were gone.

She felt the great weariness of guilt pull on her untested soul and she left in disgrace, leaving their steaming corpses in the oil mud. Soon she found more, she noticed now how disparate and aggressive they were, no order, such anger, such chaos. No sooner were they here than they were gone again. She saw her purpose then and she took it. Once she claimed control the demons did not fight her, they worshipped her steps. She punished them for wrongs not committed with harsh and vicious means but still they cried at her presence and prostrated themselves at her feet. They had only ever desired control, for they had none themselves. Mim took pity upon her kin and again she loved them, dear sweet children that they were. Sometimes she would keep one or two whom showed themselves stronger or faster or more cunning than their brethren. They would live a little longer than the rest, but soon she had to strike them down too, life was so harsh and she could not bare to see them in pain.

Eventually other great ones rose from the mire of chaos and rallied their own forces. There were thirteen in all, and together they marched upon Mim's Sovereign. She watched for a time, fascinated by these new ones. They were alike unto her and yet different, more simple, less capable. She let her children die for her, knowing they enjoyed it so, as all thirteen of the Lords attacked at once. They beat upon her walls and they fell, they charged at her guards, and they were slain, they charged at her doors and they were open. And then there was she and thoughtlessly they attacked. The Wraith was the first to test himself against her, desperation driving him, who was he? What was his purpose? Was he even here at all?

She caressed his soul and split it with pain and suffering, tearing the very fibre of his being with the most exquisite excruciation. She left his shredded existence to face the next three. The Chaos seemed to want nothing, just difference, trying to find something with no pattern. Mim gave him disorder, pure anarchy, dissolving him in random nothingness. He fled at what he found, yet was screaming in delight. The Destroyer was terrified. He could not stop, he just wanted to bring everything into ruin, yet once that was done how would he continue his work? It terrified him, he had no match, no one to stop him. Mim gave him that, Mim defeated him, forced him to create something and go against his very nature. He created an enemy. In terror and madness, he also fled, like a wounded animal from the field of battle.

The Burner was crying, weeping tears of loneliness. She just wanted to love and be loved, that was all she ever wanted. It struck at Mim's heart and she rushed to her, taking her warmly into her arms. Immediately she caught ablaze and screamed in unbearable pain. The Burner smiled then, but her tears still fell. Yes she was in love now, but it was over so shortly, no time, in no time at all her love would be gone. But Mim did not leave, she remained, screaming and burning until finally Mim bent and kissed her forehead, sending lances of ice shocking through her, showing the extent of the coldness in her own heart. The Burner stood frozen and Mim turned to the rest. The Trickster fled without thinking, along with The Immortal and The Magnus, seeing the impossibility of victory. The Foe had only ever wanted to know there was someone to match him and this he knew instantly upon seeing Mim, he also left. The Judge judged her just, he left content as well. The Death and The Nightbringer could see only Darkness around her, could not see a life, could not see a light. There was nothing they could take from her so they also simply left. The Anguish found that, around Mim, he felt the weight of an eternity of sorrows fall upon him. He collapsed in upon himself, only just able to contemplate such suffering as she had had to endure. He also left, incapable of doing against her.

So all who were left were prostrate at her feet. The Wraith was motionless, but still here, she had not wanted them gone. The Burner was thawing away at her heart, understanding finally what it is to love someone unconditionally, even knowing they felt nothing for you. Eventually The Wraith stirred, finally knowing that he existed, for nothing could not feel such pain, therefore he was something. He pledged his existence to Mim instantly, begging her forgiveness, begging her punishment, begging her affirmation. She had smiled at him and accepted his oath, placing her hand upon his head. Each touch ellicited the same bolt of agony in him and he was grateful. The Burner also stayed, desperately clinging to her love, though Mim spurned her and abused her trust and loyalty at every turn. She knew what they all wanted, she knew what would satisfy them.

The Wraith became her right hand, her second in all things, most trusted, most loyal. The Burner was her lowest, lower than even her children, broken and abused and left wanting in all things, yet still she stayed, hope holding her firmly in place. The other lords wandered long in confusion and Mim did not pursue them, knowing that they would come to her when they felt the need, then she would take care of their needs. The Destroyer came first, whimpering to her threshhold, pawing at her feet, begging her favour, her mercy, her command. He was very like to her minions, needing instruction and control, craving its security. He lay at the feet of her throne, her ever faithful Guard dog, feeding upon her children when she permitted it.

The Death and The Judge came next, together coming to understand her, then want her, then need her. The Death needed her un-need, when everything else around him craved his attention, she needed nothing from him and so he was content. The Judge saw nothing of virtue, nothing of justice but neither anything of injustice nor unvirtuous. She was purely worthy, in her existence, in her manner, in her very being she had worth and he wished to serve her worthiness.

The Nightbringer came around soon enough. He didnt want to, Mim's prescence felt oppressive to him for she seemed unaffected by his power, he was angry, furious, he raged through the shadow trees until he couldnt stand being so far from her. He arrived at her door like a beaten warrior, on his knees and begging for mercy through his teeth. She had only smiled and stroked his cheek, making him growl as she trailed fire down his face yet with him incapable of resisting her. None of them could.

The Anguish tried to sacrifice himself in her presence. He wanted her forgiveness, he wanted her to release him. She would not. She refused his apology, his suicide. She made it plain that he would die without her forgiveness. So she trapped him, chained him to her with bonds of pure ice. He was one of the easiest to tame. The foe was similarly easy, he was simply ashamed, how could he consider himself worthy to be her enemy? So he became her ally. It was very simple.

The others came to her in similar fashions, taking their place at her side in pain and suffering for her cause. She united the demon realms and all was at peace, until the portals that is. She had been worried at the first sign of them, her little children wandered through so innocently and she knew not what became of them. None returned and the portals were too small for her to pass through nor any of her Vanguard. Not until the prime was opened could she see the true horror of what was occurring. Her blind, stupid, frightened little children, wandering through the veil and being ensnared by lesser mortals. And they werent even properly looked after, these mortals thought themselves controlling, thought themselves masters. They did not even know the meaning of the word! Her little babies followed them, were forced to obey them but confusion festered in their hearts.

And so, soon afterwards, Mim decided to take it upon herself and free her children from these would be masters. She surged through the Prime, her Vanguard by her side, and swept a swathe of terror in her path. At the first she had turned in this new place and seen a creature before her. He was different than the rest, she could feel the oozing aura of corruption in his heart, she could see all of him, every bit of him. His companion, it intrigued her, she had plans for him. He was ripe to serve her. So she brought him on he conquest. She stole colour and life and happiness as she went, releasing her children from their constraints and building a magnificent army to bring down vile retribution upon these foolish creatures. She let her realm seep into the mortal one, spoiling it with beautiful corruption. She set a throne in the centre of their world, forcing the humans to beg, to prostrate themselves before her. She was ruler of two realms now and it gave her greater power still. But it did not feel right. Somewhere deep in her soul she knew it would not last and deeper still she knew it would bring her down.

It began with the Angels. Disgusting beings from the realm of purity. She hated them, they glowed with aura's of solid light. She hated them, they burned her heart, they staled her thoughts. She hated them. But she found herself loving one of them.

Azazel, the greatest of them, almost her counterpart. He was her equal, the necessary light to her darkness. She hated that she desired him, desired his life. Killing him would not be out of disgust but longing. She would destroy him in love, the purest kind, for then all of him would ever be hers. And she knew he wanted the same. She wanted to claim his death and he wished to die for her. But he could not give in to his desire, he had such clear judgements and he judged her evil, he judged that he had to stop her and that he was the only one capable of doing so. Therefore they fought, battles of terrifying magnitude, filled with pain and death and sorrow. She loved it, it was like they were making love, spending passionate moments together.

But that in the end was her undoing. She knew the Angels were slowly closing the portals to her realm, she knew that if they were all shut off then she would be powerless, disconnected from her world. She would slowly fade away while all her children died around her. But he was so irresistible! He called and she came, with delight, away from the Prime, away from the last gateway to Nosk'ova. He had wept before it was over, confessed his crime, admitted his betrayal. While her hand was grasping his heart and his sword was imbedded in her stomach, he told her to flee back to the Prime and stop them. But he knew it was too late and so did she, for he could not have told her otherwise. Instead of fleeing she awaited her end in his company.

But it was not the end. She felt her connection with Nosk'ova snap and her grip was lost. She spun in confusion, trying to reach out to something to grasp ahold of, something to steady her in this realm that was so different from her own. She found it in a wolf, gorging itself upon the body of a woman. The corpse's belly was swollen with child, the wolf had torn through her skin and guts and pierced her womb, letting the child fall out into a pool of its mother's blood and placenta. It was naked and wet and only just above death when Mim found it. The wolf had such innocence while it did its slaughter, it was only hungry, it did not know its transgression. The mother's emotions of hatred and fear were left as residue in the child's blood. It was perfect. Mim became both the girl and the wolf. Binding herself to them to maintain her grip on the plains around her.

And so that is how she lived, girl and wolf, never seperating. As the world turned back to normality and her powers diminished she wandered the wilds in search of her Vanguard and a way to return home.

The Wraith


The Burner


The Destroyer


The Death


The Judge


The Nightbringer


The Anguish


The Foe


The Chaos


The Corpse


The Magus


The Immortal


The Trickster